


His Eyes Only

by bioplast_hero



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Bottom Shiro (Voltron), M/M, POV Lotor (Voltron), Voyeurism, getting caught watching, s5 Shiro/Kuron
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-08-26
Updated: 2020-08-26
Packaged: 2021-03-06 18:28:33
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,689
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26123509
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bioplast_hero/pseuds/bioplast_hero
Summary: Lotor hides himself in a closet where he suspects Shiro and Keith have been meeting secretly these last phoebs. He's excited to watch the Champion and his lover in action. It turns out he's unprepared for what he finds.
Relationships: Keith/Lotor/Shiro (Voltron), Keith/Shiro (Voltron)
Comments: 12
Kudos: 97
Collections: Lotor Week 2020





	His Eyes Only

**Author's Note:**

> Power bottom Shiro rights. ;)
> 
> Beta: [Quantum Abyssmal](https://twitter.com/quantumabyssmal) ♡

When the observation lounge door opens, it isn’t a surprise. Lotor expected them.

It isn’t that the paladins have been conspicuous about their activities. They’ve been exceedingly discrete, all things considered. But the prince is observant and he knows they haven’t been seen going to one another’s rooms, or there’d be talk of it. The younger paladins love nothing more than idle talk.

The red paladin is just back from a Blades venture this evening, and here comes the black paladin not a varga later, here to wait for the other man.

Lotor arrived earlier still, uncertain how impatient these two would be today. He’s concealed himself in a supply locker, the door only slightly ajar. Enough to hear and, hopefully, to see.

Lotor only glimpses Shiro briefly as he enters. The man quickly moves out of view toward the windows. The prince lets himself imagine the man: well-built, shoulders and chest straining the vest he always wears when he’s not dressed for battle. He imagines him leaning against the rail, watching the door.

The paladins associate their leader with his patience and with that tired phrase he likes to say. Lotor sees things differently. More often than not, the man has a hungry look in his eyes, eager, almost haunted. At times it strikes Lotor that Shiro is not completely at home here, with these people, with himself. He has the look of someone who might try to claw his way out of his own skin.

Lotor hears the man sigh, shuffling his feet somewhere he cannot see.

Not patience, then, but force of will. He will hold it together. Shiro will say nothing, do nothing, about his private pain, however very close he comes to cracking open from it.

Well, he’ll do _something._ Keith is his outlet, and Shiro Keith’s. He’ll pour his hunger into Keith, and hope that it grounds the electricity in his nerves.

The door opens again not twenty doboshes later, and a passing flash of red and white jacket confirms who it is.

“Hey,” Keith’s voice rasps. “Hope you weren’t waiting.”

“Not long.”

“Sorry, I was just—”

“Stop, Keith.”

That shuts him up. It was said softly enough, but for the disappointment in it.

“We expected you yesterday.”

Tense silence, a shifting of feet. 

“What do you want me to say?” Keith’s voice is softer than Lotor has ever heard, a private sound. 

“That you missed me.”

A puff of breath. “You know I always miss you.” Lotor hears them embrace, the moist sound of lips. “Hey,” Keith says, chiding. “What?”

“Didn’t know I was so selfish. Every time you leave, I,” Shiro trails off. He won’t say it.

“I’m all yours tonight.”

Or would be, Lotor thinks, wetting his lips.

It’s quiet then, so quiet. Lotor strains to hear the sounds of their mouths, shifting clothes, panting breaths. He’s bulging in his trousers, brushing his thumb down his length and bumping along the stiffening ridges there at the underside of his cock.

Keith’s muffled moan licks up Lotor’s spine and he’s very pleased. It feels like taking something from them, hearing this when no one was meant to.

He hears movement and it draws his eyes back to the crack of dim light where he can see the empty sofa, the room’s only furniture.

Something falls to the floor out of view. Clothing? There’s a stumble, and a huff of laughter, and a soft keen that sounds like Keith melting into Shiro’s touch. Lotor strokes himself up and down through the teasing touch of fabric, lingering, taking the time to feel it all.

“Impatient?”

Shiro snorts. “Never.” His voice is a low rumble and Lotor can’t believe he isn’t fucking the boy yet. 

When he sees movement again, it’s Shiro, chest bare and pulling Keith behind him by the wrist. His lips are reddened and he looks slightly less like a mortar about to go off, slightly more settled. 

Shiro drops to his knees as Keith approaches him, and Lotor can now see the red paladin’s boots and pants are long gone, jacket coming off. Shiro fists his metal fingers in the fabric of Keith’s tee, lifting the material up from his abdomen and holding it there. Shiro’s eyes are black as he licks at Keith’s glans, teasing. He gives Keith’s pretty ass a small squeeze.

Then Shiro swallows him down with a peculiar dedication, taking him straight back and hard until his nose is buried in Keith’s dark curls. 

It’s a bit scandalous, Lotor thinks, to see the great black paladin, the Champion, servicing this halfling boy— a literal child by Galra standards. The thought stokes Lotor hotter, paired with the slick sounds of Shiro’s mouth and throat working. 

Keith grunts, and the rasp of his breathing is enough to fuel Lotor’s fantasy. He wonders how those sounds would sweeten if Lotor pried those peach cheeks apart and teased the boy’s hole. 

But it’s Shiro who mewls at Keith’s feet, his strong jaw flexing as he works and swallows around cock. Keith’s fingers tangle in the other’s hair, pulling sharply, his hips jerking forward just enough to take Shiro by surprise, his gray eyes rolling back with a shudder. Keith pulls a bit more; Shiro welcomes it, voracious now. Strong hands on Keith’s thighs, chest muscles ripple and tendons in his neck strain as he bobs his head like he was born for this.

Keith’s head falls back, a kind of silent scream. Fingers knotted in Shiro’s bangs, he finishes down the black paladin’s throat. The quickness hints at inexperience, perhaps, but then where did Keith learn to get off so quietly?

Shiro licks his lips, eyes dark and not sated at all. Lotor isn’t either; he hopes this is the prelude to something where the Champion bends his friend over the sofa and takes him apart. Maybe Keith won’t be so quiet then.

Shiro gets to his feet and in a quick motion strips the remainder of his clothes. The Champion is a beautiful specimen, hardened through trial. His pectorals are mouth-watering, but so are his strong thighs, and a pink cock girthy enough to make a Galra proud. It’s long and hangs heavily, leaking his anticipation. The red paladin chose his mate well.

Keith urges Shiro forward, and the picture inverts, Lotor’s mind bending to accommodate it. It is Shiro’s knees on the cushions and his giant hands steadying himself on the back of the couch, ass in the air. It’s Keith parting his cheeks with sure hands and swiping his tongue over the pucker of the larger man’s entrance.

Shiro buries his eyes in the crook of one elbow as Keith plants his face at Shiro’s ass, licking and sucking like it’s his favorite meal. Soon Shiro is making little sounds, needy whimpers that Lotor cannot believe he’s hearing. The man cants his hips, desperate for more.

Keith isn’t put off by the needy outburst— far from it. He’s bent on his goal with the purest dedication, a defining trait that really shouldn’t surprise anyone at all. Lotor strokes himself faster, confused and somehow thirstier than he was before. The prince planned to tease himself here and wait, take himself in hand in the privacy of his chambers, but his patience is waning. Shiro moans and Lotor fumbles to unfasten the tight material trapping his cock. Lotor bites his lip to stay silent— he’s so sensitive, the first touch is almost overwhelming. Shiro’s back arches and Lotor’s on fire with the sight.

Keith’s a mess, his face sloppy for sure if only from the slick sound of it, and Shiro keens now like he’s truly suffering. Keith’s voice rumbles a little in answer as he keeps moving, fucking with his tongue.

Lotor thinks the suffering is in earnest; how can he possibly glean enough satisfaction from a human’s small tongue? But futility doesn’t dampen Keith’s enthusiasm for the job. 

“Keith, please,” Shiro groans, peeking over his shoulder with pink cheeks and bitten lips. Then he hisses out a breath, shocked by Keith’s teeth nipping the swell of his ass.

“You usually love this part,” Keith answers wryly, but he’s yanking a glove off with his teeth and spitting on the fingers he intends to use. Lotor shudders. Do humans not make their own slick?

“More,” Shiro pants, squirming his hips, twisting to see. Keith’s fingers are small, slotting in easily and crooking to give him the friction the man is desperate for.

Shiro yowls. It’s loud and Keith flinches, swatting a little at the man’s flank.

“Keep it down, baby,” Keith warns. _Baby._ Lotor easily guesses at what that means, from the heated, sweet tone. This is the Champion of the arena, the legendary paladin, and he is _baby._

“Sorry,” Shiro murmurs, hips rocking, biting down on his own arm to muffle further pleas as Keith takes to licking around his rim, skirting around his knuckles where he’s buried deep. Lotor feels his cock leaking across his palm, dizzy at the sight.

“I’m ready,” Shiro whispers.

Keith scoffs. “You always say that.”

“I need it, Keith,” he answers snappishly. “Sorry, I- it’s just—”

“It’s okay. Hey, I’m here,” Keith moves, fingers still scissoring as he climbs up to kneel behind Shiro, bent over his back and kissing his spine. Keith is so _small,_ it’s disorienting to look at. Lotor almost forgot, with the red paladin’s outsize presence.

“I won’t make you wait,” he continues, Shiro twisting to kiss the other and only reaching his forehead. “But you know it’s a lot,” Keith says.

Shiro cracks a lopsided grin. “You won’t hurt me,” he whispers. “Not more than I like.”

Electricity shoots up Lotor’s spine. _You minx,_ he thinks, drooling at the thought of pain titillating the black paladin. 

Maybe this is the Champion after all. The image slots together in his mind, the battle-worn human, injured, aching for a punishing cock, and— Lotor has to clamp down on the base of his cock lest he lose what remains of his composure.

Keith appears to be done arguing, turning and guiding Shiro over the armrest on his elbows, on a knee with one leg extended to the floor, eyes forward and—

Lotor almost recoils back, sure for a moment that he’ll be seen as the black paladin’s gaze passes vacantly over his hiding place. His pulse is thrumming and his cock is throbbing from the scare. He stands silently in the near dark, leaking in his fist, and tries to gauge if Shiro is already too fucked-out to notice the slightly ajar door.

Shiro’s face tightens in aching pleasure when Keith’s hand swipes up Shiro’s length, gathering all he can of what he milked from the man a moment before. He’s slicking himself up and it’s the first good look Lotor’s had of Keith’s cock. No one his size should be that hung. It’s almost absurd. A decent length but _thick,_ flushing purple with— ridges. Lotor almost groans. His Galra genes did him some favors, it seems, and Shiro is salivating for it.

Keith lines up, and Lotor watches the black paladin’s face as he holds himself, feels the first brush, the first breach, moaning low with focused restraint. Keith watches him, focused on the man in his hands, bumping one ridge after another into that waiting hole. Fully seated, Shiro remains tense as a bowstring.

“Baby, relax for me,” Keith murmurs, less command and more invitation as he soothes a gloved palm up his spine, Keith’s bare hand gripping the man’s hip. His eyes look a little more feral, but Shiro’s trust in him has him focused.

“I’m good, Keith,” Shiro grunts, shifting his hips, still rippling with tension. “Fuck me.”

Keith slips back only a little, but slams forward quite spiritedly. It’s rough, out of sync with that gentle, lulling touch. Shiro gasps even as he smiles. Keith’s thrusts are sharp but that grin sharper.

“Like you mean it,” Shiro challenges. Lotor’s cock lurches, ignored in his hand, and it spurs him to move again, canting his hips into his own fist as Keith withdraws more fully and slams back inside.

Keith grins a little as Shiro gasps, head dropping down, mollified as Keith pistons his hips. The red paladin is a muscular youth, lithe and powerful in his own way. He lets loose on Shiro’s body and it’s only then the larger man starts to sag into his shoulders, slumping as tension oozes out of him. 

Lotor is raw with need, burning to come from the sight of Keith taking the proud man apart. Lewd whimpers float out of Shiro and Lotor thinks hard about fucking the Champion himself. He had no idea. He’ll be seeing this sight behind his eyelids for a phoeb. Maybe Keith would fuck Lotor’s ass while he does it, too.

It’s a need he didn’t know he had. 

Keith certainly has the stamina for it. Lotor really has lost all sense of time, edging himself at the very brink while the men carry on unknowingly. And on and on. Keith is panting, sweating from the effort, and ceaseless in his dedication to fucking Shiro into tomorrow. 

Lotor wants to explode. He realizes all at once that he can’t stop what’s coming, it’s far too late, and in a rare act of clumsiness he makes a bit of a sound slapping his free hand over his own mouth.

Shiro’s eyes are on him in a second. Lotor is coming harder than he ever has in his life and he _knows_ Shiro sees him despite the dark. Adrenaline lights him up. It’s the most blinding pleasure, and he needs to stop and put his fucking cock away. For this is about to be the fight of his life.

Sickly, deliriously, Lotor realizes he wants that, too. He’d face the Champion. And maybe… winner takes all.

But Lotor doesn’t move, pinned to the spot under Shiro’s gaze. Keith missed the sound, still thrusting, looking far more feral than before. And that’s the other threat, isn’t it? It’s not like he’d be facing the Champion alone. Keith will gut him with his bare claws, if he can, not for himself but for violating Shiro.

Shiro still hasn’t moved.

Sticky in his hand, Lotor stares, transfixed. Shiro is pressing his hips back into Keith’s thrusts, eyes locked on Lotor’s clearly compromised form. He is… allowing this. He’s letting this happen.

Shiro moans, eyelids fluttering a moment, as Keith’s hips start to stutter. The boy is pushing through, aching to come and not willing to give in until Shiro’s had his fill. Shiro looks right at Lotor and his tongue flicks over his bottom lip.

“So good, Keith,” he rasps, “so perfect.” 

“Shi-iro,” he pants, falling apart.

“Make me come, Keith. You can do it.”

Keith howls as he slams into Shiro’s hole, hanging by a thread. Shiro is eyeing Lotor, preening, spine bowing.

“Th-at’s it, Keith, fuck—”

He shouts as he comes, clenching down hard enough to blow Keith’s eyes wide. It’s over, it’s all over, and Keith looks one shade from crying as he spends himself in Shiro’s ass.

The sounds they make twist up Lotor’s spine and he wonders how long he has before he pays the price for his entertainment. He should move, tuck himself away, but it’s an effort he can’t manage just yet.

What a way to die.

Shiro glances back at Keith, the boy stretching over his back and still sheathed to the hilt. Shiro hums a little in his direction, a soothing, lulling sound, then he clicks his tongue, drawing Keith’s eyes.

Then he looks at Lotor’s hiding place, Keith’s eyes following.

Fear is a fine wine, and all too rare in Lotor’s experience. But he’ll admit to being afraid as Keith’s face flashes in anger, tension whipping through his body. 

“Wh—”

“We have a visitor,” Shiro says calmly, amusement thick in his voice.

Keith snaps to that, reading his lover’s eyes and the man’s mood. If Shiro isn’t upset by it, then maybe he doesn’t have to be.

“What do you say we teach him a lesson next?”

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on [**twitter**](https://twitter.com/bioplast_hero)!
> 
> Other Lotor works by this author:
> 
>   * Leithal threesome [Hers, Thine](https://archiveofourown.org/works/25874854)
>   * Lotura ABO [Lotus](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26079196)
>   * Keitor sparring [Back For More](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26202277)
>   * Mattor slowburn [Aren't I the Lucky One](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26171101)
>   * Mattor fear boner [The Lies We Tell Ourselves](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26130469)
>   * Shotor fwb [Unspoken](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26127079)
>   * Lotorcest noncon [Asymmestry](https://archiveofourown.org/works/26081176)
> 

> 
> I live and breathe your comments, including emoji dances and keysmashes— all welcome. Thank you for reading. 💜🖤❤️


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